


suit shopping

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Costumes, Dress Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Lingerie, SHIELD history, Sexual Humor, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Coulson takes Daisy shopping for a suit, and gets one of his own.





	suit shopping

"You've got the hookup?"

"I've got the hookup."

"SHIELD is supposed to be a clandestine organization, we're not even government sanctioned."

He puts his hand into his pocket and then holds up the keys in front of her, dangling.

"Fake it 'till you make it," he says with a sparkle in his eyes.

She turns her face away so that he can't see the smile that's forming there, covering her mouth with her hand as she looks around the hangar to see who is watching.

Their new base isn't quite like the Playground. It's a bit smaller, and it's requiring a lot of renovation to get it in shape to run ops out of.

Which means the light work crew isn't paying much attention to them, it turns out.

And she has been needing to get out, this base doesn't have a lot of natural light since it's below ground and she can tell from the crack of light on the hangar doors that it's sunny outside.

"Okay," she says, swiping the keys out of his hand. "Just one."

"Or, we could all get matching uniforms," he says cheerfully. "They tried that once back in the 60s."

"We can't afford matching uniforms right now, Coulson," she tells him, eyeing him getting into Lola's passenger side. "Do they still have those uniforms somewhere?"

"Probably," he says, slipping his sunglasses on as she turns over Lola's engine. "Maria got them out once for a party. I just remember them being very tight. It read more costume than uniform."

Daisy laughs picturing it as she steers Lola out of the hangar.

  
###

  
They manage to make their way into an alley and park Lola out of the way and enter the old brick shop through the back.

Coulson greets the owner and she notices that he's already closed down the storefront to give them privacy.

"What is the occasion, if I might ask?" he says, looking towards Daisy.

"It's classified," she says with a polite smile, glancing at Coulson.

"She's the boss," Coulson replies to the other man, raising his eyebrows and hiding a smile.

"Ah, I see," the older man nods and pulls out a large book on the table, opening it to display all the variations of cuts and fabric. He is very compact and his hands are small with thin fingers.

Leaning over the book, she looks at the different jacket types and studies the cuts of the pants.

"Have you had a suit made for you before?" he asks her, fixing one of his shirtsleeves.

"No, just off the rack," she sighs and glances over at Coulson who is busying himself touching things that are in a state of partial construction.

"Mr. Sena made me one," Coulson tells her. "I can definitely speak to the quality."

"Only one?" she asks. Because she's seen his closet full of suits. She's seen him wear at least four of them.

"What kind of money do you think I was pulling down?" he laughs at her. "I get them tailored."

"By me," Mr. Sena interjects and flips a page in the book to show her a swatch of light wool fabrics lined in a neat row.

"I like that one," she says, pointing to a drawing of a sleek looking suit without a shirt under it, narrow lapels.

"Italian style," Mr. Sena tells her. "Very good. Do you like the pant legs a bit wider or more-"

"Narrow," she tells him assuredly, then looks up at Coulson. "The gray one. Is that the suit that you had him make for you?"

"Yeah," he tells her with a small smile. "How did you know?"

"It fit really well," she tells him, then grins. "And, you were trying to impress me that day."

"I was," he admits and moves closer to her, cocks his head to look down at the suit she has her finger on. "Did it work?"

"I think the answer to that is obvious?"

Mr. Sena has moved away from them, and is looking through his closet of jackets to find a size for her to try on.

"Does this take all day?" she whispers to him. "I've never done anything like this before."

"You're doing great."

  
###

  
"I think I want the pants to be high waisted. Is that what the cool kids do these days, or-"

"You should do what feels most comfortable for you," Mr. Sena tells her, with his measuring tape spread across her shoulders, stopping to write down the measurements as he goes.

"It will make those long legs look even longer," Coulson tells her, sipping from his cup of coffee, leaning back against the cutting table.

"Is that too distracting?" she asks, trying to hold still as Mr. Sena measures along the length of her arm.

"I won't mind," he tells her, licking at the foam left behind on his bottom lip.

"Coulson, I'm being serious."

"If the jacket is long enough, no one will know," Mr. Sena tells her. "I think you don't intend to wear the jacket open, is that right?"

"No, she doesn't, " Coulson answers for her. "Do you happen to sew matching sports bras?"

"Let me have a sip of that," she tells him, waving him over with her wrist. He popped out to get a coffee, a place down the street he's familiar with.

He bends his cup towards her and tips the coffee into her mouth so she can continue to be measured while she drinks.

"Did you think more about the color?" he asks her.

"Black, of course," she tells him, as he raises his hand and brushes a bit of the foam off the tip off her nose. "I love black."

"I know you do," he says, resting his hand in his jeans pocket, and drinking from the coffee cup again.

"Besides," she tells him, followed by a series of blinks. "There are other places I can sneak in some color."

"Do we want to make a side trip?" he asks enthusiastically, pushing up the sleeve of his sweater.

"Let me guess: you have a hookup?" she asks him with a quick laugh.

"No, but I can be very persuasive," he tells her, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the list of nearby stores.

"I'll make you a deal," she tells him, as Mr. Sena turns her around and has her face the mirror while he measures her waist.

"Done," Coulson answers with a shrug, looking up at her, before she even has a chance to make the offer.

"Okay," she says, with a nod of her head, looking at him through the mirror.

He walks towards the back of the shop and starts to dial.

  
###

  
"You're right, it's very, very tight."

"And very blue," he says, twisting over his shoulder to look at her. "I think you got the short end of the deal, really," he adds putting a hand on his hip.

"Come here."

He turns back around and walks towards the bed, stopping in front of her, as she runs her hand along the spandex fabric stretched across his thigh.

"This was considered high-tech fabric back then, can you believe it?"

"I mean, I'm not really opposed to the idea entirely," she tells him, curling her fingers over his hip and turning him to look from another angle.

"There's uh, a belt too," he tells her, sounding distracted, as she sits up higher, her hand on his shoulder now. "Do you want me to put it on?"

"Yes," she tells him, leaning to touch her lips to his ear. "And the boots? The whole outfit."

They're sitting on the chair with the belt in front of him, and he walks to the middle of the room and turns to sit on it, while she rolls onto her stomach and props her face up with her hands.

"Those would be distracting. For me," she tells him, watching him lift a leg to pull on a boot. "I can see why they went with Plan B."

His hands stop for a moment to watch the red strap of her bra slip off her shoulder.

"I can fix that for you," he says helpfully, reaching for the other boot.

"You're such a helpful Agent," she tells him, and then sits up with her back to him, and undoes the snap at her back and holds the bra up. "Here."

He catches the red silk lace in his hand after she tosses it, then crosses her arms over her chest and glances back at him, only wearing the matching underwear now.

"Do you think you can retrieve the rest?"

He comes to stand in front of her again, her hands on his belt, looking through the different pocket compartments in it.

"Yes."

"Oh, look what I found," she says with mock surprise, lifting the tiny plastic wrapped object out.

"I tried to be prepared," he tells her, as she splays her hands over his stomach, and then turns him sideways again.

"How did you even get this thing on?" she asks, starting to laugh.

"Lots of patience," he says, laughing along as he leans down to kiss her.


End file.
